My sandals are dusty, worn, and soaked in the scent of my bare feet—and you’re going to clean every inch with your tongue. No complaints, no shortcuts. Scrub them spotless with your mouth, because only then will you earn the privilege of tasting what you truly crave: my sweaty, irresistible feet. This is your reward for obedience. Prove you’re a devoted foot slave, and maybe I’ll press my soles against your face—if you’re lucky.
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